Good Sport

It's been a while since I've written about baseball. My team, the Philadelphia Phillies, has been having a rough year. Same for the Boston Red Sox, leaving the local Nation somewhat despondent, and more than willing to offer me advice about how to deal with a sudden turn in the fortunes of my squad. I've been entertained and intrigued by some of the unexpected successes this year, but without a favorite horse up front as talk of playoff races lies just around the corner, I must confess that I've not been following our national pastime quite as closely as in recent years.

Appropriately, the London Olympics are dominating the sports news these days, and the athletes of Team USA have been putting on quite the show. I had forgotten how excited I can be about sports I've never played– water polo and gymnastics come to mind– as well as those that I enjoy on a far more recreational basis, such as volleyball and swimming. I'm looking forward to the track and field events next week, eager to watch marathoners, sprinters, and throwers alike competing on the world stage. Yet I've been dismayed by the few stories that cast some shadows on the Olympic flame. Murmurs of possible doping, badminton players throwing matches, even social media posts that didn't reflect the wisest judgment, and led to some expulsions from the Games. I know that the pressure of competition is fierce– I go to my "quiet space" to quell butterflies and anxieties before a road race– but I also feel fairly justified in my desire that these athletes come together as a global community, do their best for team and country, and simply (to use a hackneyed phrase) "go for the gold."

It's this personal mindset, I believe, that caused me to be so impressed by something that happened at Cincinnati's Great American Ballpark this afternoon. The Reds, leading the NL Central by three games, were hosting the Padres, who are way behind the Giants in the NL West. The home team (and their weather) is hot; Cincy has won 9 of its last 10, while San Diego was headed for a third straight loss by the end of the 2nd inning, trailing by six runs. Then, in the top of the 3rd, a guy named Eddy Fernandez stood in for his first at-bat in the majors, and hit the fourth pitch he saw into the center field seats for a solo home run. He circled the bases, collected the requisite high fives and ritual slapping from his teammates, and drew some applause from the crowd. At the same time, a fan threw the ball back to the Reds' center fielder– not in the disgust or protest sometimes signaled by tossing back a homer by the opposing team– but to relay the memento back to young Mr. Rodriguez. The next Cincinnati player tossed the ball to the Padres' third-base coach, who heaved it into the dugout. (For anyone interested, a link to the game video is here, at least for a little while.)

Moments like this are some of my favorites in baseball, and sports in general. There are plenty of walk-off home runs, furious come-from-behind sprints down a track, and clutch plays of all sorts etched into my memory, but I can't help but smile at these humble class acts between fellow athletes and their fans. That's something I'll be looking for as the Olympics continue, and something I'm eager to reconnect with as I begin to sketch out my fall training plans, and look forward to meeting, and maybe engaging in a little competition with, some fellow runners in the months ahead.

Comeback Cardinals

It’s been a few days since the St. Louis Cardinals won the World Series, and despite the intervening excitement and challenges of experiencing the beauty and dealing with the damage bestowed upon the landscape by and October snowstorm, I’m still musing on the significance and meaning of their thrilling ride through the playoffs.

Facing elimination in Game 6, the Cardinals were down to their last strike on two separate occasions. As had been the case since late August, when their improbable run to the playoffs began, when they found themselves with their backs to the wall, the wall became more than 45,000 cheering fans, and the collective enthusiasm of an entire city, pushing them forward, holding them up. Even beyond the remarkable athleticism and skill of individual players that produced not one, not two, but three decisive hits (a tying two-run triple, a decisive RBI single, and a walk-off home run) in the 9th through 11th innings, the cohesion of the team and the devotion of its fervent followers created a memorable spectacle that is the essence of outstanding baseball.

Having lived for three years in St. Louis, and now in my third year living in Worcester, I’m familiar with cities and regions where a baseball team is more than just a group of players for whom to cheer– it’s a family that inspires an even broader community of devotion, support, and strong emotional involvement. During the offseason, one sees plenty of Cardinals or Red Sox apparel in everyday situations around those respective cities, worn by the full spectrum of the local population. There are jokes– not entirely without the ring of truth– that baseball is something of a religion for its most fervent followers, myself increasingly included. The greatest players, whether they’ve established long, successful careers or emerged at a crucial juncture to contribute some timely heroics, are honored, revered, and admired. These teams’ victory parades in celebration of World Series titles drew nearly a million people to the streets over the past several years.

I’m a firm believer in the value of community, on scales ranging from the local to the global. True community living does bring challenges alongside clear benefits of support, happiness, and good company, as I’ve learned in seven years of life as a Jesuit. The hundreds of thousands who united to cheer on the Cardinals likely have their share of differences about the neuralgic issues provoking heated rhetoric and creating affliction and tension throughout our nation. While those concerns hardly disappear during a game of baseball, I can’t help but hope in the possibility of transferring that energy to the realm of our nation’s key social issues, rallying around something greater than our differences, deeper than our worries, and more lasting than the thrill of a decisive win or a festive victory parade. Game 6 of the World Series taught me a powerful lesson– community makes it really hard to simply give up in the face of adversity, despair, or a situation that many could justifiably consider hopeless. The Cardinals, in standing tall with true determination each time they were pushed to the brink of defeat, not only achieved a remarkable and unprecedented triumph, but also affirmed the confidence of an entire city, and offered the entire nation a sterling example of teamwork. I hope that they can inspire some similar comebacks in our neighborhoods, our cities, and our nation. Otherwise, it’s going to be a very long offseason.

For Team and Country

Although my primary athletic pursuits– distance running and hiking– do lend themselves to my more individualistic and contemplative side, in recent years I've become an avid fan of two team sports: baseball and soccer. I owe the renewal of my passion for our national pastime to my three years in St. Louis, and, I suppose, my current residence in territory solidly included in the Red Sox Nation. Living in a region where people of all ages, economic levels, backgrounds, and neighborhoods unite in support of their team, and where many players on the local team take an active (and interactive) interest in the lives of their fans and the situations in their cities, provides an image of community that regularly inspires me. I owe my enthusiasm for soccer– and tendency to shout in Spanish and jump around during especially tense moments in the game– to the Chilean Jesuits with whom I spent three months in the summer of 2007. The fact that their national team was playing in the Copa America tournament at the time, a situation which somewhat modified the house schedule according to the team's matches, certainly didn't hurt.

It's a great time of year for my two favorite sports. Major League Baseball is celebrating All-Star Week, with many of the game's most famous and most talented athletes setting aside team affiliations and engaging in contests that highlight not only their skills and cooperation, but also the way that the game can bring together fans from throughout the country. The Women's World Cup, currently being held in Germany, has reached its semifinal stage, with only four teams remaining from the sixteen who began the tournament at the beginning of the month. I spent much of the weekend watching the quarterfinal matches, which featured surprises, disappointments, some controversial officiating, and wild swings of momentum and emotion. Germany, the host nation, was eliminated after a scoreless tie went into extra time and was finally broken by a Japanese team that played with the skill, heart, and soul of not only their 11 players on the pitch, but also, it seemed, of their entire nation. The United States, as individuals and a team, battled their way back after giving up a lead, having a player sent off, surrendering a goal in overtime, and surviving nearly an hour of soccer, one player short, to triumph at the last moment by scoring a tying goal and winning a penalty shootout as time ran out– all against an incredibly talented, artistic, and often dazzling Brazilian team. In several postgame interviews, the American women regularly referred their gratitude, their amazement, and their speechless joy to the way their teammates competed, held together, and never gave up hope... and stated in various ways that such a display is emblematic of the best ideals of their country and its people. After watching these women play some of the most thrilling and memorable soccer I've seen for quite some time, I couldn't help but agree with them.

A week after celebrating the 4th of July, as the United States and its people move into the height of summer, and alongside the diversions of baseball and soccer, countless hopes, challenges, dreams, tensions, and thoughts animate the hearts and minds of the nation. How can we look up to and imitate not only those who swing bats to the accolades of millions, but also the millions who swing hammers in humbler arenas? Do we admire wearers of numbered jerseys as well as those who don suits and keep numbers and figures in order? A number of the women on the World Cup team are mothers; after the game, goalkeeper Hope Solo headed to the stands and was handed a small child, whom she held with a delicacy as profound as the fierceness with which she stopped a decisive penalty shot ten minutes earlier. Countless mothers among us are no less heroic, and perhaps far less widely noted. The gifts and contributions of individuals on our nation's great team– more than 300 million strong– represent a remarkable resource, with the potential to lift up homes, neighborhoods, cities, perhaps even the whole world. Let's make sure we do our best– for team and country.

And, in case anyone's wondering, although I live in Red Sox Nation, I'm an unapologetic Phillies fan, and will be rooting for the National League tomorrow night.

The Phillie Phanatic

Much to Celebrate

O'Kane Hall

College of the Holy Cross

Worcester MA

After a long New England winter followed by a tardy and turbulent spring, it's the first day of summer here in Worcester. There's much to celebrate in addition to this turning of the seasons:

• At this latitude, solstice brings more than 15 hours of daylight, and for at least the next few weeks, sunset will be after 8pm, perfect for enjoying mild evenings.
• Today the Catholic Church, and particularly the Society of Jesus, honor St. Aloysius Gonzaga, who lived in Italy during the 16th century. As a young Jesuit, he tended to plague victims in Rome, and ultimately died of the same disease at the age of 23. His name has been taken up by a number of Jesuit schools, and he is one of the patrons of Jesuits in formation. I'm told that descendants of his relatives still gather at his shrine in Rome on this day each year.
• The College of the Holy Cross, where I live and work, today celebrates the 168th anniversary of its founding by Benedict Joseph Fenwick, SJ, the first bishop of Boston. Fittingly, the campus is filled with activity– construction projects that are upgrading landscaping and other facilities, a symposium on faith and the intellectual life, and more than two hundred accepted students and their parents for a two-day program of orientation to the College.

On a slightly more personal note, now that the hockey playoffs are finished (Well done, Bruins!), baseball takes the spotlight with the season in full swing. I'll be celebrating the start of the game's long summer arc by joining a friend for tonight's contest between San Diego and Boston at Fenway Park.

Have a wonderful and blessed summer!

Fenway Park

Boston MA